


Unplanned

by Basingstoke



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Abortion, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Community: cabinpres_fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-08
Updated: 2012-06-08
Packaged: 2017-11-07 07:29:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/428462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basingstoke/pseuds/Basingstoke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Martin falls pregnant and needs a little help from his friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unplanned

Home from Berlin. Douglas is dying for some sushi to wash the sausage out of his system. Not very British, he knows, but--

Martin touches his shoulder. "Douglas," he says, very softly.

"Yes?" Douglas stops and gives Martin his full attention. There's obviously something wrong; there's been something on his mind for several weeks now. Douglas just hasn't had the heart to pry.

"Are you free tonight?"

"Yes, why?"

"I need...someone to come with me...and sit with me a bit, in case something goes wrong. And to drive. I shouldn't drive after."

"All right. A bit last minute; this sounds important."

"Well, it's hard to ask," Martin said, very softly indeed. "It's, um. Abortion."

That explains everything, then. He'd teased Martin about his heat around two months ago. Apparently the omega _had_ gone out and found himself an alpha. "Of course," Douglas said.

"I'm on the pill, and we used condoms, but--you know how it is in heat, and--"

"I know."

Martin's face crumpled and he pressed a sleeve to his eyes. He took a long, shaky breath. "It's in an hour, so we should go."

Douglas nodded and opened the door for Martin. "Dinner first?"

Martin shook his head. He blotted his eyes with his sleeve, leaving dark blue blotches behind. Douglas could see him trying to pull himself together.

Poor boy. It was hard being an omega on your own. Douglas did wonder why no alpha had snapped him up before--he wasn't bad looking, not really, and heat hormones made anyone gorgeous, and omegas were in short supply compared to the surfeit of betas--but then he considered Martin's luck and concluded Martin had probably spilled hot coffee on the crotch of any potential mates. Except one, clearly. "Shouldn't the father be here with you?" Douglas asked as mildly as he could.

Martin barked out a short laugh. "He gave me a false number. Put it in my phone and everything and it goes to the pharmacy department of Boots. I think that's a fairly clear message."

"Bastard." Douglas unlocked the car.

"I can certainly pick them. I always have--" His voice broke. He stumbled into the car and held the heels of his hands to his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said as Douglas slid into the driver's seat. "It's the bloody hormones."

Douglas retrieved the tissue box from the glove box and handed it to Martin. "Quite all right. You'll feel better once it's all taken care of."

"Right," Martin whispered.

"Fitton Hospital?"

Martin nodded. Douglas drove.

It wasn't far. Nothing was far in Fitton. Douglas stopped at a drive-through and got some chips for himself and tea for Martin, which they had in the car in the hospital parking lot. Neither of them spoke.

Finally Martin looked at his watch. "I should go in. You don't have to--" But Douglas had already opened his door.

"I'm coming," Douglas said.

They followed the signs to the Ob/Gyn department, but Martin paused outside the door. His hands shook. He took a deep breath and opened the door.

Martin stopped again before he reached the check-in nurse. He pressed both hands to his face. Douglas took his shoulder and guided him forward gently. "Martin Crieff," Douglas told the nurse. "He might need a moment."

The nurse gave him a stern look. "Are you all right, love?" she asked Martin.

Martin sobbed.

"Do you need help, love?" she asked, giving Douglas an even sterner look.

"Oh, God--" Martin seemed to crumble in place. Douglas caught him and eased him to a chair and Martin broke out in awful, heaving sobs. His face turned bright red and he barely breathed from crying.

"Martin, breathe," Douglas said, which was no use at all.

"I want it," Martin gasped. "I want it, I want it, I want to keep it, I want to be a mum, I--" He caught himself mid-gasp with his mouth wide open and his eyes swelled closed.

"Martin, you don't have to."

"But I can't! I can't. I can't. No money no time no--" He beat his forehead on his hands.

"Breathe, love, breathe in and out. Nobody's going to make you do anything." The nurse was there with a cup of water. Martin tried to obey, shaking terribly. "Are you the father?" the nurse asked, very sternly indeed.

"No. He scarpered."

"Well." The nurse visibly softened. "Try to calm down, love, you're going to pass out like that."

Martin's eyes were red and puffy and his breath chattered over his quivering lips. He drank the water in tiny sips. "I'm sorry," he said finally, his voice breaking halfway through.

"Let's go back out to the car," Douglas said. "Appointment cancelled, I think."

The nurse nodded and patted Martin's shoulder. "Just take a deep breath and take another look," she said.

"Looking twice doesn't make me see money," Martin said. Tears rolled down his cheeks but he let Douglas help him to his feet. He leaned on Douglas's elbow as they walked back to the Lexus.

"So. You want to keep it," Douglas said.

Martin nodded. He wiped tears away from his red, raw eyes.

"Always wanted to start a family and the clock is ticking?"

"Yes," Martin said.

"So keep it, you nincompoop!"

Martin barked out a laugh. "Nincompoop?"

"Airhead. Nimrod. Idiot. There are child benefits to help you do it!"

"I can't live off the dole! I'm an airline pilot!"

"You're a man with a van and a hobby. Yes, fine--move in with me."

"What?" Martin stared at him.

"Move in with me. I like babies. Children, too. I rather miss mine," he said, feeling naked. Too much truth.

"Oh. Oh, I..."

"Provided, of course, you handle the diapers and midnight feedings. I'll handle the mid-morning cuddles while mummy has a bath. It's a two-bedroom flat. The other room was meant for my daughter, but--well." It was too disruptive to her schedule for his daughter to come down for visits more than once a year, her mother said.

"You can't just say this because I'm crying. I swear I'll stop crying," Martin said.

"Martin, shut up and accept help when it's given."

"Okay," he said. He laughed, half-choked. "All right. Oh, God. I will."

"Now let's get out of here before they charge me for parking." Douglas started the car. "How soon can you break the lease?"

"Next month. Really?"

"You want to save up for baby while you can still work. I have a spare key so you can just move yourself; you're certainly qualified. You'll need to make an appointment with your GP and start on, oh, vitamins, that sort of thing, and of course Carolyn is going to be terrifically cross, but I'm sure if she tempts Herc with sexual favors, he'll fill in."

"Douglas!"

"A gruesome thought, I know. Don't dwell. Oh, and of course, you'll name the baby after me."

"Of course," Martin said softly. "Naturally." He sniffled.

*

Two and a half months:

"No!" Carolyn cried, falling back in her chair. "You cannot possibly be pregnant!"

"I can, and I am, and I'm keeping it," Martin said, lifting his chin. His voice shook only slightly.

"I still can't pay you, you silly boy! I can't afford maternity leave! You'll be the ruination of the company!"

"I don't care," Martin said. His chin wobbled, but he bit his lip and tried to look unmoved. He laced his fingers over his belly.

"Go! Go away and let me think. When are you due?"

"Seven months. 15 September."

She snorted. "Well, you're going to be bloody miserable this summer. Arthur was born in August and by the end I was lounging all day in a cool bath. How long can you fly?"

"I don't know. My doctor says I'm very fit and might be able right up to the due date, unless there are complications." He rubbed his belly fitfully. Please, please, no complications.

"Hm." Carolyn eyed him. "Well, go tell Arthur. He'll be beside himself, of course."

And he was. "A BABY! In your tum? Right now?" And Arthur fell to his knees and hugged Martin's midsection. "Hello, baby!"

"Oh--it can't hear you yet, it's tiny..." But it was nice, being hugged and welcomed, so he patted Arthur's shoulder.

"HELLO, BABY!" Arthur shouted.

"No, I mean it hasn't got ears yet!"

"No! Will it have ears? You have to have ears, otherwise you can't listen to music!"

"It will. Erm, it should," Martin said, feeling suddenly worried. "They just haven't...sprouted yet."

Of course, that was the thing. He was only two months along. So many things could happen. It weighed on him as he moved his books, mattress, and box of clothes into Douglas's flat. His old landlord had been relieved to see him go; Martin heard he'd been itching to renovate the attic and charge more rent. That was that, then. If this didn't work out with Douglas, he was...fucked.

How appropriate. He looked at his phone, the teasing number. Jack Norty--Naughty Jack. He was such an idiot. "Your mum is a first rate fool," he told the embryo. "Well. You can only be smarter."

*

Four months:

He showed almost immediately. He was so thin to start with that between Douglas's cooking and the baby weight, his trousers no longer zipped by the third month and he had to buy maternity trousers at the beginning of the fourth month. He already looked distinctly pregnant. He was going to be enormous by full term.

"What do I do when my uniform jacket won't button?" he asked Douglas.

"Just button the top one, down to your--" Douglas stopped and peered at Martin's chest. "Bosom. My, my."

"Stop that!"

"And you're only at four months. My, my, my."

"Douglas! They're functional, not decorative!"

"Both, I would say. You'll want to invest in a bra before long."

"I didn't realize I would need an entire new wardrobe," Martin sighed. "I'll go to Oxfam when we get back from Egypt."

"Or, you can let me buy you something pretty."

"There's no point. I'll need a bigger one next month anyway."

Douglas sighed. "Martin. I'm an alpha, you're an omega. A pregnant omega living in my flat. All the neighbors think I'm the father. It reflects badly on me if you go around dressed in rags."

Martin goggled at him. He hadn't thought of that. "Oh," he said.

"Yes. Now let me buy you some decent clothes."

"Of course," Martin said.

*

Five months:

Martin returned home agitated. Douglas girded his loins for the inevitable argument.

"I can't work any more," Martin said breathlessly. "I look pregnant, I smell pregnant, my client said he'd be damned if he let a pregnant omega move his boxes. Oh, God, what am I going to do if I can't work? I don't, I, I can't, oh God!" He collapsed on the sofa and buried his face in his hands.

He did look deliciously, ripely gravid. He wore an oversized jumper but his belly pushed it out in a glorious swell. His breasts--C-cup, with the promise of more to come--rose like foothills above the mountain of his abdomen. "I said I would take care of you," Douglas said.

"I didn't think I would be quite so useless quite so soon!" Martin was on the verge of tears.

"Stop that." Douglas sat beside him on the sofa. "You really have no idea how pleasant it is to have a pregnant omega around the house. You smell marvelous, you know."

Martin blushed, but didn't move away from Douglas.

"Doesn't matter that it's not mine. You still..." Douglas leaned in close and inhaled. "Yummy. And you're flying, so I can keep my job. You barely register on my bills, you know. Extra five pounds for electric, ten pounds for food. More than offset by the number of times that I've come home to eat rather than dining out. If anything, you save me money. So stop worrying."

Martin sighed. "All right. I...yes. I'm sorry."

Douglas inhaled again. Martin blushed deeper, which made him smell even better. "They bottle this, you know. Omega gestation hormones, designed by nature to make the alpha content. You'll feel better if you sit in my lap. It's science."

You silver-tongued bastard, Douglas thought to himself as Martin sat on his lap and embraced him.

"I didn't intend this. When I asked for your help, I meant to go through with the abortion. I could never have done this alone," Martin said. "Thank you." He squeezed Douglas's shoulders tight.

Douglas realized, at that moment, that he was going to be a father. Again. He exhaled and hugged back. "My pleasure," he said. "I'm quite looking forward to it."

*

Six months:

Martin no longer fit in any of his uniforms or any of Douglas's by six months. Carolyn threw her hands up, bought him a dark blue maternity smock, called it a uniform, and told him to stay out of sight of any passengers. He was still fit to fly, though. His doctor said he was doing extremely well.

His breasts were enormous and aching. Every time he looked, it seemed like he'd gone up another inch; well, that was normal, for a male starting from nothing, but...

"You'll be more comfortable if you buy a bra that fits. You're bulging out," Carolyn said, pointing at his bosom.

Martin blushed. "It fit last month! When does this stop?"

"Oh, no telling. And afterwards, you droop."

"Great," Martin said.

He took his sister to help him buy a new bra. "Jesus!" she yelled as soon as she saw him. "How many do you have in there?"

"One!"

"One elephant?"

"My doctor says it's perfectly normal! It's just a low carriage."

"You poor thing," Caitlin said, and hugged him. "And look at your tits! I bet your alpha loves those!"

"Caitlin!" Martin flushed immediately.

"You're pregnant, ninny. The whole world knows you have sex."

"Not in the middle of the street!" Martin turned and pushed into the store.

He returned home with a couple of sports bras that should, please God, restrain his melons for the remainder of his pregnancy. And he also...he wondered.

Because he hadn't had sex with Douglas. He didn't even know if Douglas was attracted to him, particularly. Should he? He'd been so confused and turned around that he hadn't given the matter serious thought. He supposed he was waiting for Douglas to make the first move, same as always.

He changed and he was miles more comfortable. He slipped on one of his nicer shirts to greet Douglas in the kitchen.

"That smells gorgeous," Martin said.

"Green curry chicken. Another ten minutes or so. You look more comfortable," Douglas said, turning and looking Martin up and down.

"New underwear, again. Much more comfortable."

They ate--it was delicious--then watched TV side by side on the sofa. Martin wondered, should he make a move? Because he should, really, be sleeping with the alpha who was providing him a home. That was just...polite.

Martin had never had sex outside of heat. He wasn't sure how it worked when he wasn't addled on lust, begging his partner to pound him, harder, more, fill him up--

Just like that, he was hard. His erection pressed into his trousers under his huge belly. He inhaled and shifted to ease the pressure.

"All right? Does baby disapprove of Thai?"

"I, erm," Martin said. "Erm. Just. No, I'm fine." Then the baby did move, kicking him in the diaphragm so he hiccuped.

"Lie down flat. It should be better if you stretch out. Here, put your feet on my lap," Douglas said.

Martin sighed and obeyed. If he turned onto his side, the baby had more room to squirm. He tried to find a comfortable position.

There were no comfortable positions. He squirmed as much as the baby did. "Martin?" Douglas said.

"Sorry," Martin said. "I had better just go to bed."

He may have thought of Douglas as he wanked off. He didn't let himself think about it, much.

*

Nine months:

"It's a girl," Douglas said, stunned.

"Yes, she is. A big strong alpha girl." Martin had stars in his eyes.

"Yes, but I thought for sure it would be a boy. Statistically, a male alpha and a male omega are far more likely to produce a boy."

"Yes, I'm naming her after you and she'll conquer the world. Conquer the world with her tiny tiny fingers." He lifted her and kissed her red little forehead.

"Martin, there isn't a female version of Douglas."

"Eleanor Douglas Crieff. See? For Eleanor of Acquitaine, she was an alpha too," Martin murmured against the baby's hair. She opened her eyes and looked in Douglas's direction.

Douglas sat down. "May I hold her?"

Martin kissed the baby, then nodded. He handed her off as carefully as if she were a nuclear bomb made of glass.

The baby wasn't actually looking at him, Douglas knew. She couldn't focus yet. But it felt...it felt like she was looking into his soul. "Well then, Nellie, I'm your dad," he said.

"Nellie, really?" Martin asked.

"I think it suits her. Many songs have been written to girls named Nellie." He cradled her, looking down into her puzzled blue eyes. "I notice you didn't object to the other."

"No," Martin said. "Daddy." And he smiled.

*

One month postpartum:

"He's not anything like me. And that side of the family is posh, really posh," Martin said nervously. He wondered again if this was really a good idea.

"I gathered that from the W1 post code," Douglas said. He carried Nell wrapped tight in her blanket while Martin toted the enormous nappy bag.

They climbed the stairs at the Baker Street station and crossed the street. Martin's cousin's door was beside a little sandwich shop that made Martin's stomach perk up with interest. "We should stop after--"

"Martin! You had an egg sandwich an hour ago."

"I'm eating for two! It's hard work feeding Nellie."

"And you're up three stone from a year ago."

Martin blushed and rang the bell.

"Come!" shouted a man from upstairs. Martin opened the door.

"Sherlock, you can't just leave the bloody door unlocked, it could be anyone!" A beta male jogged down the stairs and stopped at the landing. "Oh, hello."

"Or it could be my cousin, his alpha, and his baby," Sherlock yelled from upstairs. "Unless you think the baby is secretly a bomb?"

"Come up. Dr John Watson." John held out his hand to Douglas.

"Douglas Richardson."

"He's not my alpha," Martin said. "He's just, well."

Sherlock appeared at the top of the stairs to meet them. "Just looking after you during your pregnancy? Feeding you? Supporting you? Carrying your daughter? Covering you in his scent? It's just a matter of time until you shag him."

Martin blushed bright red. "Sherlock!" John snapped.

"Martin Crieff, since he neglected to mention. My second cousin. His side of the family came to Christmas every year."

"And Mum always got me your hand-me-downs so I looked like a posh git at school," Martin mumbled. He didn't mention that he was older than Sherlock but had been smaller since he was five. He supposed it was only natural since Sherlock was an alpha and Martin was an omega.

"So. You're looking for the father of your child?" Sherlock said. It wasn't really a question.

Martin nodded. "I know you don't normally take this kind of case--"

"But Mummy will kill me if I don't, yes. Tell me everything you know." He threw himself into a chair. Martin sat in the other chair opposite. Douglas and John sat on the sofa, Nell on Douglas's knees. Douglas frowned and sniffed Nell's bum.

"Well--I met him in London. I came down for the day to, well."

"Find an alpha during your heat," Sherlock said.

"You don't have to be rude! Fitton is small. I didn't want to run into Dirk the groundskeeper. Anyway, I met the alpha on the train, so we had some time to talk, and then went back to his."

"Where?"

"I don't know. I wasn't taking notes. He gave me his number--" Martin handed Sherlock his phone. "But it just goes to a Boots."

"Which station? Did you walk?"

"I don't--no! It was the Angel, Islington, I remember because of Neil Gaiman, _Neverwhere_. We walked. It wasn't far. You know how--well, you probably still don't know how it is during heat, do you?"

Sherlock gave Martin back his phone. He looked cross, as usual. "What did he look like?"

"Sort of Italian. Dark hair, dark eyes, but his skin wasn't very dark. Natural tan. You can see how Nell is sort of golden and her hair is brown, and Simon and Caitlin and I are all ginger?"

Sherlock glanced at the baby. "Well, that's enough to be going on with. I'll call you when I find him."

"All right. How much?"

"Money?" Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Gratis," John said. "As long as you tell me something hilarious about Sherlock as a boy."

"Done," Martin said, grinning.

Sherlock jumped to his feet. "You dare."

"I landed a Lockheed McDonnell 312 on one engine. You don't scare me an inch," Martin said. "I'm going downstairs, I want a chip butty. Come on, Douglas." He hoisted the nappy bag over his shoulder and did his best to look regal.

John, of course, joined them. Nell started to fuss, so Douglas handed her to Martin to nurse. "Changed my mind. Avocado and bacon," Martin told Douglas.

Douglas rolled his eyes and saluted. He'd stopped arguing with Martin's stomach months ago. 

"So," John started as Martin draped the nursing blanket over his chest. "He's not your boyfriend?"

Martin tugged his breast free. Ouch. He felt better once Nellie began to nurse, though. "He's my first officer. I'm a pilot for a small charter firm. We flew Sherlock to Minsk last year; he didn't mention?"

"Of course not. For all Sherlock tells me of his family, he was hatched from an egg."

"Yorkshire. They have one of those giant country homes. Erm, let me see...he was once savaged by a ferret."

John grinned. "A ferret?"

"He caught a feral ferret and said he was going to train it, but it didn't work. It got him right in the armpit and he won't say why, even now." Martin smiled.

Douglas returned with the sandwich and a pile of chips. Martin jumped for the sandwich and the blanket slipped from his shoulder, baring his breast, making Martin flail for a second--exposure versus dropping his daughter. His daughter won, of course, but the blanket dropped on the floor.

Douglas was looking at his exposed skin. John retrieved the blanket. "Here we are," he said, tucking it back over Martin's shoulder.

*

At home, Martin settled Nell in her crib for a nap. Douglas, behind him, slowly and deliberately cupped his breasts in his hands. "Erm," Martin said.

"We both want to," Douglas said.

"Well." Martin tried to think of a counterargument. "Erm."

Douglas leaned in and inhaled his hair. "My scent is on you. Your cousin is right."

"Oh," Martin sighed. He leaned backwards slightly into Douglas's arms. "But--you can do better. I've seen your exes..."

"Martin, you vastly underestimate the utter deliciousness of your smell," Douglas murmured.

Martin sighed again and placed his hands over Douglas's. He did feel attractive at the moment, well fed, warm, and pumped full of baby hormones. "Let me get the baby monitor," he said. Douglas licked his neck.

Martin and Douglas were both kicking off their shoes and wrestling their trousers when Martin's mobile rang. Martin froze. "It's probably Sherlock," Martin said.

"Damn Sherlock!"

"He really won't wait," Martin said. He answered. "Hello?"

"Found him. Come immediately," Sherlock said.

"We're fifty miles away. Can't it wait until morning?" Martin asked.

"He won't be here come morning," Sherlock said. "Take your alpha's Lexus."

Martin begged Douglas with his eyes. Douglas rubbed his temples and nodded. "All right," Martin said. Sherlock gave him an address in Islington and hung up.

*

The address turned out to be...a Boots. Martin got out of the car and retrieved Nell from her car seat. John was standing outside. "Brace yourself," he said. "Do you want me to hold her?"

"No, I'm fine." Martin put her in her sling. Her little weight against his belly was immeasurably comforting.

Inside, Sherlock was sitting at the blood pressure machine with Nell's father. Martin swallowed.

"Martin, meet Jack. He's a pharmacist. At Boots. Which is the number he gave you, because he was slightly addled at the time," Sherlock said. "You idiot" was left in subtext.

"Oh. Well. This is Eleanor," Martin said. Jack rubbed his forehead. Sherlock stalked out majestically.

Martin sat at the blood pressure machine. "I thought it was a fake number," he said.

"Yeah. No. You're sure? Because you smell like someone else," Jack said.

"I'm living with him. We still haven't had sex."

"Can I hold her?"

Martin handed her over.

They talked for a while, until Jack's boss told him to take the night off, and then sat in the Lexus and talked more. The smell of Jack's and Douglas's hormones filled the car.

*

They arrived home too late to do anything but put Nell in her crib and fall into bed.

It was the same bed, though. Douglas rolled Martin into his arms and rubbed his hands all over Martin's naked belly. He slid off the nursing bra Martin slept in and kissed the firm swell of his breasts. "Too tired," Martin said.

"I just need to smell you, not him," Douglas said. "Better now." He cupped Martin's breast and flicked a thumb over his nipple.

"Don't, I'll leak..."

"Quite all right."

In the morning, Douglas phoned his lawyer to work out a visitation and support schedule. Jack wasn't going to come between Martin and Douglas--Douglas had made that very clear--but did want to see his daughter. His mum was especially keen for him to have a child, he said.

"Do you think this will work?" Martin asked.

"Only if we have sex immediately," Douglas said. Martin grinned and Douglas tackled him.

*

Sixteen months postpartum:

Arthur was an excellent babysitter. Nell adored him and called him "Ruff-ruff." They took her on cargo flights, when Arthur watched over her, and Nell's father or Martin's mother watched her on passenger flights.

Arthur's ability in this area was very welcome at the moment, because Martin was unable to be a mum right now. He was pressing his wrist to his eyes and trying very hard not to cry.

"Martin?" It was Douglas. Martin swiveled in his chair and grabbed him around his middle to hide his face. "What on earth happened?"

"I asked if she wanted some milk and she said no," Martin sniffled. Behind them, Nell was playing tag with Arthur. It was a fairly even match.

"I thought you would be glad?" Douglas asked. Martin shook his head against Douglas's stomach. He liked nursing. He loved the closeness, her little snuffles, the knowledge that he was directly sustaining his daughter. Now she was just...separate. From him. Which was good. But.

Douglas stroked his hair. Martin sniffed. "She's not a baby any more," Martin said.

"We'll just have to make another," Douglas said. Martin laughed.

*

Seventeen months postpartum:

Douglas wasn't joking. Martin's milk had dried up and his breasts were finally shrinking, so he was due to go into heat any day now. "I'm going back on the pill," Martin said.

"No you're not." Douglas kissed the side of his neck.

Martin served Nell her apples and toast. "Yes I am."

"It will be another nine months before your next cycle. We could have another baby by then."

"Baby?" Nell asked. She was very fond of babies. She liked to play mummy with the infants at the park.

"I'm sorry, dear, no babies today."

"Babies in nine months," Douglas said.

Martin groaned. "No!"

*

Douglas really, really wasn't joking. Martin could feel his heat approaching in the tingle of his nipples and his acute sensibility to Douglas's smell. He hadn't gone to the doctor to have his contraceptive refilled. He should, if he intended to.

They were flying a pony to America. Most of the seats had been taken out for the occasion and a temporary stall erected in Gertie so the pony, a Shetland named Prince Albert, could travel in state. Martin had done the books, so he knew exactly how ridiculous the expense was.

Nell was nearly as excited as Arthur at the flying pony. Last time Martin had gone back to check on her, she was asking question after question of the groom in charge of the pony and had been allowed to feed it a carrot. After that, she passed out from excitement and was curled up with her Thomas the Tank Engine blanket on a rear seat.

Nothing but ocean beneath them. "Iron Horse," Martin said. The game was "movie titles improved by substituting one word with 'horse' or related word."

"Mm. Farrier, Trainer, Jockey, Rider," Douglas said.

"You just can't resist showing off, can you?"

Douglas took Martin's hand without looking and kissed the back.

"That still only counts as one," Martin said.

The sat-com rang. "Horse-sense and Sensibility," Carolyn said.

"Not a substitution," Douglas replied.

"Stuff and nonsense! Those girls could have used some horse-sense, I tell you."

"Be that as it may, it doesn't qualify. So that's three each for Martin and myself and one for you, Carolyn."

"Hoofloose," Carolyn said.

"Oh, that's bloody good," Martin said. "The Mare with the Unicorn Tattoo."

"Martin! Can it be that you're winning?" Douglas said.

"You're letting me. You want to talk me into another baby."

"Do it, Martin. Nell is darling," Carolyn said.

Martin was gobsmacked. "You want me to get pregnant? I couldn't fly for six weeks last time, remember? And that was doing well. I might be banned for months next time!"

"Arthur loves babies. I'm rather fond of them. And Nell has started calling me Grandmum." Carolyn cleared her throat. "Horse Trek, Horse Trek 2: The Wrath of Barbaro, Horse Trek 3: The Search for Seabiscuit, Horse Trek 4: The Race Home, Horse Trek 5: The Final Gate, Horse Trek 6: The Undiscovered Meadow, and that's check and mate, lads." Carolyn signed off.

Douglas and Martin both sat in silence.

"I'm inclined to only count those as half," Douglas said eventually.

"Know when you are beaten," Martin advised.

*

On the way home, Nell was crushingly disappointed at the lack of pony, but was delighted to play tag with Arthur in the empty plane.

"Are you absolutely sure?" Martin asked.

"I am," Douglas said.

"Then let's make a baby," Martin said. "Should be about two days."

*

Come the day, Martin really didn't want to put clothes on. He called Arthur to come get Nell while he lounged around in his dressing gown.

Douglas watched him hungrily. "Say the word," Douglas said.

Martin reclined on the sofa. He felt...warm. Slightly aching. Lush, he might say. His breasts were nearly flat again but his nipples were swollen and longed to be touched.

So he did. And between his legs, mm, his cock was hard and below his balls, he was open and waiting. "Mmmh," he said. He threw his leg over the back of the sofa.

"Martin, I mean it, tell me..." Douglas leaned over and pressed his cheek to the inside of Martin's thigh. The slight stubble tickled Martin's skin. He inhaled deeply and exhaled over Martin's cock.

Martin slid two fingers inside himself. He brushed his other hand down, ridding himself of the tie of his dressing gown.

"Door's locked," Douglas said hoarsely.

Martin didn't feel like speaking. He just wiggled his fingers: Come on. And Douglas catapulted over the arm of the sofa and onto his body, making Martin laugh. Martin wrapped his legs around Douglas's waist to pull him in. He couldn't remember why he was wearing any clothes; that was utterly ridiculous. "Ergh, get it off me," Martin said, pulling at his dressing gown.

"After we--" Douglas penetrated him and they both gasped with relief. Douglas slid his hands up and down Martin's back. "Mm," Douglas hummed against his chest.

"Mm, mm," Martin agreed. He folded his legs up against Douglas's sides to angle his hips up into Douglas's pounding cock. Douglas was mouthing at his nipples, making Martin feel so warm, so safe, so utterly delicious.

It wasn't long before Douglas shivered and began to knot. Sex during heat was different from normal sex: far less fucking, but then the long period tied together. The base of his penis expanded to fill Martin up from the inside, plugging him up and trapping the sperm inside to mix with his ripe egg. He was sure to fall pregnant. Douglas rested his forehead against Martin's chest and exhaled.

"Much better than last time," Martin said. He relaxed into the knot. He could feel Douglas's heart beating against his skin.

"It's a privilege to knot inside you," Douglas murmured. He wrapped his arms under Martin's body.

"Stop it," Martin said. He cuffed Douglas weakly.

"You smell like the most delicious..." Douglas trailed off, snuffling against Martin's skin. "Cake and curry and whisky all together." He rubbed his cheek over Martin's chest, making his skin prickle.

Martin felt safe and protected. It was just hormones, he knew, but it was marvelous to bask in an alpha's touch. He stroked his fingers through Douglas's hair. "I wonder if it will be a boy or a girl? A boy would be nice, for balance, and you have a daughter already."

"Two daughters," Douglas said.

Martin smiled foolishly at the ceiling.

*

They had sex for two days straight. Bliss.

And two weeks later, he took a test to be sure, and he was pregnant. He curled up on the sofa with Douglas and grinned. He didn't need to say anything.

*

Five and a half years postpartum:

Back in the United States, at a rodeo in Texas. Martin and Douglas each held one of Philip's hands as he sat on the rail. (He was ginger, poor dear, but he had Douglas's strong chin and brown eyes and was growing up a handsome little boy.)

Martin held his breath as Nell burst through the gate on a sheep. She shrieked with joy as the sheep tried to buck her off, then succeeded. She popped right back up and ran to Martin and Douglas. "Mummy! Daddy! I was a rough rider! Did you see?"

"Rough rider!" Philip crowed.

"Come on, little darling, let's clear the ring!" said the rodeo master, or whatever the hell he was called. Martin had been rather too busy fearing for his daughter's life to pay attention.

"Wow!" Arthur shouted. "Cowgirl Nell! That's brilliant!"

"Cowgirl Nell!" Philip echoed.

Nell ran back around and leaped into Arthur's arms. "Uncle Ruff! I rode a bronco! It was just a little bronco but that's okay because I'm little!"

"It was brilliant!"

Carolyn touched Martin's shoulder. He jumped a bit; he hadn't noticed her. "She's fine," Carolyn said.

"I can't believe I let her do that," Martin said. He exhaled.

"Of course you did! It was a child riding a sheep, that's priceless. Think how much fun you'll have telling her future paramours. I got a whole roll of pictures. I'll email you copies. Eleanor, my brave girl! Well done!" Carolyn bent down and hugged Nell.

"I rode a bucking bronc!" Nell repeated.

"Yes, and you showed it who the alpha was! Come, let Granny buy you a funnel cake."

"No! Those are nothing but lard and sugar!" Martin shouted, but Carolyn didn't turn around. Blast! Nell would be up all night with tummy upset.

"Carolyn enjoys being Granny rather too much, I think," Douglas said.

Martin sighed. Philip wriggled to be set down, so Martin let him go run to Arthur to watch the rest of the sheep riding. He leaned against Douglas. "Our children are fearfully spoiled," he said.

"Isn't it marvelous? Oh, and I'm getting Susan next weekend. I thought we might go to London Zoo."

"Sounds nice. But you have to hold Nell so she doesn't chase the monkeys in the rain forest exhibit again. She nearly got us banned."

Douglas chuckled. "That's my girl."

"It's not funny! What if she needs to go for school and she can't because she hijacked a monkey when she was five?" Martin demanded, but he started smiling halfway through.

"Pish tosh."

"Stop it," Martin giggled.

Carolyn and Nell returned covered in powdered sugar. Nell threw her arms around Martin's waist. "Thank you, Mummy!"

Martin knelt and kissed her cheek. "I love you, little tiger."

"I love you too, Mummy."

the end.


End file.
